


from a bandit to a baby

by inquisitioned



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: AU, Challenge: Sports Anime Shipping Olympics | SASO 2015, retail hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-07 04:44:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4249761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inquisitioned/pseuds/inquisitioned
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it's the fifth time this week Hinata's had to deal with "Actual Nightmare Customer His Royal Highness Kageyama Tobio". Fifth. Time. This. Week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	from a bandit to a baby

**Author's Note:**

> title from "it's disgusting" by kesha. written for saso bonus round part 2: AUs! the retail hell au you never knew you needed. also i'm kagehina trash so i bet i'll write a whole lot more of them soon.

Hinata Shouyou does not hate his job. 

Okay, well, he doesn't hate it because he tries not to hate things that much. Hinata is of the firm belief that very few things in life (jerk classmates with glasses, people who look down on him for being short, and broccoli) deserve his absolute hatred. Instead of wasting his energy on hating people, he likes to show people up--prove to them that he's more than anyone could have bargained for. That's the attitude he takes on for his (terrible) job at the sporting goods store thirty minutes from his house, because if Hinata wasn't so stubbornly against hating his job, he would _hate his job._ The hours are really long and cut into his volleyball practicing time, he spends a lot of time fitting people for shoes and therefore smelling their feet all day, and he barely gets paid any money to do any of it. But, meager amounts of money are still money, and Hinata cannot take the look of disappointment on his mom's face when he even thinks about quitting in her direction, so here he is. 

There is, however, one thing he allows himself to hate about his job, and that is one of his customers. 

"Kageyama-san," he grits out, for the fifth time this week, "What can I help you with?" 

"Kageyama-san" is said customer. At an imposing six feet tall with a looming shadow that makes him seem about twenty times taller, Kageyama Tobio (as he'd seen on his debit card ringing it up for the _fifth time this week_ ) is arguably the worst customer he's ever had to deal with. His coworkers scatter on sight, and Hinata's usually the last one left standing--as far as he knows, anyway, he's not sure how they see him so fast--so he has to deal with him. Often. Kageyama is grumpy, always (Hinata has never seen him smile, ever), terrifying, short-tempered, and very, very, very picky. Worst of all is the fact that he's a volleyball player, which is a fact that Hinata would normally find awesome and therefore want to talk to him about it (it's how he met his best friend, Kenma), but he's a nationally ranked volleyball player. He's got a future. A team. A spot at the Olympics level probably waiting for his name with a little golden crown next to it. 

These are all things Hinata has none of, and it just pisses him off. 

Kageyama lifts his head up from where he's been staring rather intently down at his feet, and Hinata assumes he's not happy with his shoes. Again. Or something. Last week he'd asked Hinata to check if there was a manufacturer defect. (There wasn't.) The week before, he'd claimed Hinata gave him the wrong shoe size. (Possible, but he definitely didn't.) His mouth is curled downwards into a frown, though it looks more--confused? Than angry. 

Weird. 

"I--" he starts, and Hinata braces himself for impact, prepares his loudest, yet most polite diatribe (which means he'll end up yelling at him and get kicked out with no pay for the day again), but Kageyama blurts out, "There's nothing wrong with my shoes." 

Hinata blinks--he'd already raised his shoulders and his hands, ready to yell, and they drop to the glass counter underneath his hands with a thunk. "What?" 

"You heard me!" Ah, yes, there it is. Kageyama flares up, but stops, like someone had just flicked his off switch, and goes back to giving Hinata that harsh stare of his, scowling so deep Hinata wonders if he's going to have wrinkles between his eyebrows for the rest of his life, "I said, my sh--" 

"Your shoes, yeah, yeah, I got it!" Immediately, he starts tacking through a list of other things it could possibly be in his head, thinking of all the dumb, inane reasons Kageyama Tobio had come into his section of the store, "Did you get a popped ball?" 

"No." 

Where he came in and ruined Hinata's day every day, "Did youuuu get a defective net?" 

"No." 

And made it so that Hinata always had to prepare some new defense for himself every morning before work, "Grab a regular ball instead of a setter's practice ball?"

"No."

So that when he came up here and tried to argue that the Brazilian professional team was better than the Japanese team, Hinata was fired up about it all day, "Messed up kneepads?" 

"No." 

So that when he won an argument, it was exhilarating and awesome and made him happy, "Are your kneepads too big?" 

"No!" 

So that somehow, yelling at this stupid customer had become the best part of his day, "Too small? Cause if you're getting fat, that's so not my pro--" 

"No, Hinata, you dumbass!" Abruptly, Kageyama cuts him off with one of his famous insults, lifting up both of his hands and putting them on the counter a little too forcefully--the contents inside rattle and Hinata jumps with a yelp, leaning back a little. 

"God, _what_ , then!?" 

The fierce aura around Kageyama dissipates--his shoulders slump, and for a minute he just looks sort of...awkward. Hinata's baffled. "I just..." He stops, and Hinata opens his mouth to interrupt him, but Kageyama blurts out, "I have tickets to the national team's match in Sendai, and I don't have any friends who want to go with me." 

Hinata stares. "What?" 

Kageyama seizes up like someone just pulled his marionette string, turning scarlet red, and he pushes back from the counter so fast Hinata almost gets whiplash, scoffing, "Just forget it!"--but Hinata's not going to let him get away from him that fast. He reaches out and grabs his wrist before he can get all the way away, having to lean halfway over the counter to grab on tight, but even when Kageyama shakes his arm to try and get off, he refuses to let go.

"Kageyama, whoa, hey, waitwaitwaitwait--stop shaking me!" When Kageyama stops, they stare at each other, Kageyama still holding out his arm, Hinata still attached to it with both hands, leaning all the way over the counter so his torso's hanging off the edge. There's a look in his eyes that could only be described as wonder, and Hinata starts to smile, because a chance to see the national team, _in person_?! "I totally wanna go, yes!! Dude, that sounds awesome!" 

Kageyama stares at him more (it's one of his primary forms of communication, as Hinata has learned in his rollercoaster months of Kageyama Tobio Visits) and then wrenches his hand out of Hinata's grip, just a little too hard. Hinata pulls his hands back but doesn't stop leaning over the counter as the excitement starts to get to him, and he kicks his feet against the hard wooden interior of the desk he's behind, feeling the growing urge to ask four thousand questions about it but too caught up in beaming at Kageyama to even get them out of his mouth. Kageyama scoffs a little and brushes off his hand, suddenly looking just about anywhere but at Hinata as he mutters, "...when do you get off work?" 

"Is it TONIGHT?! KAGEYAMA!" Hinata practically yells that, and this time he does jump, pushing himself off the counter with a screech of excitement. It's only the dirty look his manager shoots him across the room that has him cowing, and Hinata whispers instead, heated, flailing his arms around in front of him as he tries (and fails) to contain the excitement. "--Seven! I get off at seven!!" 

"...okay." Kageyama nods, curtly, dark blue eyes scanning over the now thrilled cashier, and takes a step back, clearing his throat. "See you--later. At seven." 

"Seven! Don't forget!" Hinata calls at Kageyama's hurriedly retreating back--the next ten minutes are spent doing a victory dance, wriggling and shaking across the desk floor with the delight of a national match to watch as soon as he gets off of his job, now that he's dealt with the customer he maybe doesn't hate so much after all. 

(When they head off to the match, Kageyama has to stop off at home to pick up the tickets, and his mom ruffles Hinata's hair while he's waiting and tells him that her son's been trying to ask him on that date for a week.)


End file.
